What Hands Can't Reach
by Yuinonita
Summary: There are two sides to every story and those left untold reveal themselves in the most unlikely of times, sometimes with devastating consequences. As a young, dutiful Moana takes the helm as leader of her people, will her new station be enough to deter powers that seek vengeance and retribution?


**Prologue**

A young woman casts her eyes out to the expanse of calm water and luscious greenery. Under the full warm moon, she feels the gravity of the moment. The warm island breeze encircles her; she feels its ferocity and serenity all at once, steeling her wandering mind and steadying her anxious breath.

She catches movement in her peripheral and looks down at the small bundle cradled in her arms, silently stirring amongst the folds of her _tapa_, a cloth gifted to her. A small smile creeps along the woman's face - it's the instinctive expression her face always has whenever she looks at the newborn babe she gave life to a few months ago.

So light and fragile, the warmth of her little one slowly spreads into her arms as she tightens the _tapa_, ensuring the nightly gusts don't carry that warmth away. She looks back at the shoreline, at the moon full and high… she knows what she must do and time is of the essence.

_When the moon is at its highest._

_When the moon is at its highest... _

Over and over, like a chant to the heavens, she murmurs as she descends downhill towards the area of the island she seeks. Brushing past the looming palm trees that fracture the moonlight into dancing specks upon the island floor, she manoeuvres deftly passed jagged rocks and shrubbery, her child all the while soundly asleep in the comfort of her arms.

She has come a long way to get to this point. Swaddled in her home - her _fale _-for months, looked after and served by the women of her husband's tribe, she was doted on, the one woman whom all on the island cared about and revered. She held the next leader of her people within her.

It had been three months since her child was born and the celebrations were elaborate and festive. The community welcomed her little one in the most splendid way. They danced through the night, bestowed their blessing on husband, mother and child, brought gifts to her and her little one. She took a special interest in one cloth - a small-sized _tapa_ \- gifted by her mother brought by her people from across the sea. Skillfully embroidered, wonderfully woven, she could see the work it took to process and mould this wood bark into the cloth which represented her motherland. She had wrapped it around her child as a reminder of all the things she held close to her heart, everything that symbolised who she was.

After the delivery, all she had wanted was to rest and be with her newborn but, as is customary, she stayed sheltered away from the public eye, taken care of by the women in her husband's family. She was, of course, grateful and appreciative of them: they nursed her back to health and made sure she and her little one were fine but, she wanted - _needed - _precious time alone with just herself and the new life she gave birth to. She found herself fingering the _tapa_ cloth wrapped around her child, thinking nonchalantly of when she'd be able to feel the air against her skin, smell the seawater on the wind, feel the grains of sand on her feet, see the lush exotic foliage around her, when she could show all of this to her babe and finally embark on the one thing she needed to do after confinement.

Now here she is - free amidst the night sky. She could venture out and seek the open air and for everything it was worth, it felt glorious.

The luscious green that kissed her feet as she walked, the cool caress of the wind, the soft squelch of the sand that sent a subtle warmth to her feet - she had missed it and it was all that she could think about as well as how her life had now changed in an instant as she was more than just a blushing bride. She was a mother but, how could she be a good one? Time will tell, she is sure, but one thing she knows she needs to do to solidify her new status is waiting for her on the other side of the island, hidden amongst the peaks and boulders of the lands highest mountain. With only a couple of hours before the moon moves from its highest point, she has no time left to ponder and reminisce. The moon beckons her. Determination drives her forward. Duty anchors her. She knows what she had to do and she knows where to go.

Ever careful, her feet move steadily onward, down to the warmth of the shoreline and up towards the dense, wild vegetation that encompasses the treacherous peaks looming high above her like stoic guardians of the night.

As the gradient soon turns steep, her arms are no longer able to do its duty of protection. She shifts the little one to her back and wraps her waistcloth securely around them both. _Even though you're not in my arms_, she thinks, _you're still close enough for me to protect you. _

The signs of post-pregnancy slow her movements but still, she presses on and further up the mountain climb she moves. The air is moist here; she is close.

Clambering up rocks and boulders she makes out an opening, dark and ominous as a starless night. She draws closer and before her mind has a chance to make sense of the space around her she is at the eye of the cave. The air sweeps cooly past her and she instinctively tightens her waistcloth around her knowing that it isn't just her that has made this climb. Each foot carefully placed against the rubble of the cave floor, her hand feeling cautiously against the stone-cold wall which is now her guide and stability, her ears pricked to the lofty whispers of the air, in the cold, damp space she urges forward as her surroundings grow dark and dim.

Time passes slowly here or at least that's what it feels like. Has she walked for five minutes, fifteen minutes or more? Her mind has no sense of time or direction, all it knows is the growing ache in her tired joints, the occasional bolts of pain she feels on the balls of her feet as she manoeuvres around the rocky terrain, the added weight of her precious cargo seemingly oblivious to her silent suffering.

Just as her sight is getting accustomed to her new view, she sees a small slither of light peek along the cavern floor that makes her squint slightly. Her mind is playing tricks on her, she is sure of it. She's trudged for what seems like an eternity, she is sure she imagines that light there but as she pushes forward a little more - the ache of her legs more noticeable now - nothing can hide the growing intensity of that speck of light. As she walks around the corner she sees the light become brighter, stretching further along the damp floor toward a point just ahead of her.

Another opening.

Could this be it?

Her heart pounds harder almost as if it knows exactly what is waiting there for her, coaxing her to move onward just a little more. Despite her screaming body, she agrees and wills herself to let curiosity lead her to her destination.

A sight to behold, she squints and shields her face with her hand: before her, she sees a huge expanse of clear water surrounded by a dome of damp weathered rock. From above, a gaping hole in the cave's ceiling allows the moon's face to make its appearance and cloak the space with soft embers of celestial light. As calm as a windless sea, the clear water glistens in the lunar haze, an array of silver, gold and amber fishes swim playfully in its serene ebb. The vegetation of algae and kelp home to many more species her eyes has yet to spot. The space is filled with some kind of divinity and splendour; it's enough for the young woman to let a sigh of awe escape her lips and resound throughout the cave. She looks to her right and sees the cave's rocks curve and tail off out to a small island of rocks in the center of the pool, directly under the ceiling hole.

_When the moon is at its highest... _

She hears the reverbs of her mother's words in her mind. She hears it on the soft sweep of the wind in this ominous place. She feels the weight of the words steady her nerves and calm her beating heart. She feels it carry her feet forward along the cave wall. Soft and sure steady feet on cool, weathered stone: they follow the curve of the leading her to the pool's centre.

Is it divine intervention or is it the stillness of the night and the tranquil quiet it brings? Her skin tingles as she steels herself to prepare what she had travelled all this way for. She walks to the island's centre, kneels upon its foundation, unties her little one from around her and shifts her sleeping treasure to her arms. To her babe's dreaming ears, the words from years passed, carried over from mother to mother, escape from her lips instinctively. Eyes closed, hands placed loving on her child, the prayer is said out into the open, each word uttered wrapped in duty, purpose and love.

She waits. Her heart open, her mind searching.

"The essence of our goddess, Hina, is in you. Her _mana _\- her spirit - will call to you and in that moment, you will feel it..." Her mother had said. "The spirit of your ancestors, your grandmother and I live in you. Let them guide you to do your duty…."

And she does.

In the centre of her chest, a warmness spreads slowly through the centre to every corner of her being. Calmness and tranquillity take her as her prayer flows from her mouth as natural as a waterfall. The air swirls around her, growing in intensity as she repeats her invocation over and over, her arms a protective sanctuary for her child. The rapid air tickles her skin with sand and seawater letting her know this is no dream, this is real. Senses heightened, her chants heaven-bound, taper off and fall to the earth as she feels a shift in the space. The darkness behind her eyes slowly lightens and the air is thick with more than just precipitation. The air, now devoid of sand and water, slowly loses it's ferocity and continues to swirl steadily and gently around her.

Eyes closed, she waits with listening silence. Scepticism and caution creep in, hand-in-hand.

Her once still heart beats loudly in her chest. Her heightened senses lose anchorage and light-headedness starts to claim her. _I need to hold myself_, she thinks, _I've come too far with someone so precious to let myself slip away. _ But her thoughts come to an abrupt halt.

A soft warm touch on the back of her hand - the same hand that protects her child - rouses her.

Her eyes open and she is blinded by a haze of blue light. She is not alone.

Her eyes begin to adjust as a voice parts the air like a resounding chime amidst silence, light and sweet: "Do not fear Sina, Chieftess of Motonui. I am here".


End file.
